ABU SOFIAN'S CARAVAN.
While Kedar was thus speeding towards Medina, the caravan was also
proceeding more slowly towards the south. It consisted of thirty
horsemen and one thousand camels richly laden with grain, with spices,
with purple of Syria, richest cloths of Damascus, and choicest perfumes
of the northern regions.
It was the month Ramadhan, and the peaceful traders went confidently and
securely on their way, well pleased with the success of their journey
and hopeful in anticipation of the large gain they were to make during
the great bazar of the pilgrimage.
While thus proceeding leisurely on, the leaders were somewhat surprised
to see a solitary rider coming towards them in the greatest haste. He
was mounted on a swift dromedary, and with head bent down so that his
turban concealed his face, he kept striking the animal with his short
camel-stick and urging it on with his shrill "Yákh! Yákh!"
All breathless he at last reached the caravan. "Is Abu Sofian here?" he
cried.
"I am Abu Sofian," said the sturdy old chief. "What do you desire of
me?"
"I have been sent by Amzi the benevolent," returned the other. "He bids
me say to Abu Sofian that it will be well for the caravan to advance
with the greatest caution, as Mohammed and his forces are in ambush on
the way."
"What guarantee have I," said Abu Sofian, "that you are truly from Amzi
the Meccan, and not an emissary of Mohammed sent to entrap us into some
narrow glen?"
"Here is your guarantee," replied the stranger, stretching forth his
hand. "Recognize you not this ring?"
"It is well," answered Abu Sofian, satisfied. "We are much beholden to
you and to our friend Amzi, who we had feared was but too good a friend
to this same Mohammed."
"Can you trust Amzi?" asked one near, anxiously.
"As my own soul," returned the leader. "Amzi's heart is gold; Amzi's
words are jewels of purest luster. He speaks truth." Then to the
messenger, "Know you what route Mohammed will take?"
"I know not. He has, doubtless, spies, who will inform him of your
movements, and thus enable him to act accordingly."
"Then it remains for us to meet him by his own tactics," said Abu
Sofian, "and no time is to be lost. You, Omair my faithful, speed to
Mecca with what dispatch you may. Go by the by-paths which you know so
well. Tell Abu Jahl, whom I have left in charge, to send us help
quickly."
Omair made obeisance and left at once.
"You, Akab and Zimmah," continued the leader, "go by the hills ahead and
find out what you can. As for us, we will keep our lips closed and our
eyes and ears open. Abu Sofian is not yet so old that he has forgotten
the signs of the wilderness."
The vast procession moved on again slowly and in a dead silence, broken
only by the trampling of the beasts and the moans of the camels.
Presently, on coming near a spot which might be deemed hazardous ground,
Abu Sofian ordered a halt and went forward himself, alone and on foot.
With eye on the alert, ear on a tension to catch the slightest sound,
and body bent downward to facilitate the closest scrutiny of the ground,
the keen old man proceeded slowly, stepping with cat-like precision and
quietness.
Suddenly he uttered an exclamation. A small object lay dark on the
yellow sand. He picked it up. It was a date-stone. He examined it
closely. It was slightly smaller than the stones of the ordinary fruit.
"A Medina date!" he exclaimed; "whoever has thrown it there!"
Going a few paces further, he found several similar ones thrown by the
wayside. The trampling of the sand, too, showed that a considerable
force had been on the road at no distant time.
He bent down again and directed his keen scrutiny on the road, then
retraced his steps for a short distance. There were tracks pointing in
both directions, but at one point the company seemed to have turned.
It was clear, then, that for some reason the force had been ordered to
turn and go back for a distance, probably to await the caravan in some
ravine, and that they were now not very far away. It was necessary,
then, to be as expeditious as possible.
He hastily returned and gave the order that the route of the caravan be
changed, and that the party should cross over the hills and proceed by a
route close to the Red Sea until the place of danger was left behind.
This was accordingly done, and the long lines passed anxiously yet
laboriously onward over flinty summits, down steep and rugged
hill-sides, past rocky clefts and over barren desert spots peopled only
by the echoes that rang from the mountain sides, until at last the
sparkling waters of the Red Sea lay below, and the anxious travelers
felt that, for the present at least, they were safe.